


9 Lives

by A_Big_Old_Skeleton



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, God damn it why did I decide this was a good idea, I have a truckload of the sads for delivery to your doorstep it is like I am a shittier Amazon.com, I promise it will not all be bad, Maybe not literal death but you know what I mean, Okay maybe some literal death too, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:43:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Big_Old_Skeleton/pseuds/A_Big_Old_Skeleton
Summary: If it's true that cats have nine lives, then Catra probably does too - but she's burning through them pretty fast





	1. Life 1

Catra does not remember her first death. She was, quite simply, too young to form any kind of memory that would stick around - but in her dreams she remembers. She remembers fire, and screams, and a dark figure fighting another figure, one that leaves Catra feeling a colossal sense of loss upon waking. The dream always ends the same way - the dark figure prevails, and the flames and smoke consume her, choke her until she wakes up gasping for breath and shaking. 

Adora never presses her to recount those nightmares, and Catra can't decide if she hates her or loves her for it. Either way she spends the rest of her night curled up against her friend, trying to shake the feeling of loss by holding on to the only person who's ever offered her shelter and allowed her to show weakness without judgment. By the time she falls asleep again, she feels safe, and there's a  _ rightness _ to being in bed with Adora she carries with her for the rest of her life.

But she also knows, instinctively, that if cats have nine lives she's already on life number two. She has only asked about where the Horde found her once, and the response was immediate and unsurprising. The past is not important. The Horde is her family. To care about the past is to invite weakness. A day in Shadow Weaver's care demonstrates the cost of this particular weakness enough to stop Catra from revisiting the topic. Adora finds her sitting on the foot of the bed, trying not to be too obvious about how much pain she’s in. 

Because it’s Adora, and Adora knows no other way to act, as far as Catra can tell, she wraps her arms slowly around Catra and gives her shelter. Once again, Adora doesn’t ask for anything in return - no explanation (Adora  knows what Shadow Weaver is capable of, even if she has almost never experienced it herself), no assurance from Catra that she’ll stay out of trouble from now on, nothing beyond a whispered reassurance that Adora will always,  _ always _ be there with her, no matter what.

Later on, when Adora begins to wonder about her own family, Catra is there to warn her not to press for answers from anyone. “We’ve got each other, right? That’s enough.”

Adora smiles her crooked smile, the one that only Catra gets to see, and touches their foreheads together. “You’re right. It’s you and me, until the end.”

Catra smiles back, a feeling growing in her chest that she won’t fully understand for years yet, and believes Adora completely.


	2. Life 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra goes on her own adventures at night. Adora patches her up in the morning.

Catra remembers her second death for a while, but she eventually manages to more or less forget it ever happened. She was roaming the base at night, leaving the comfort of Adora’s bed to scratch the unscratchable itch of curiosity which, she assumes, is part of the whole cat thing. She’s bored, and rebellious, and there’s all these areas where younger recruits aren’t meant to go - not ever - so obviously those are the places she goes to first.

It doesn’t take her very long to get into trouble. In fact, it probably only takes ten minutes for the first Horde guard to hear something moving around in the rafters and nearly catch her. This, of course, would not do at  _ all _ , which is how Catra comes to be dashing across the rooftop of some restricted facility or another, while two guards who are  _ decidedly _ faster than she’d thought pursue. She reaches a gap between buildings and draws up short, risks a glance over her shoulder at her pursuers who take the opportunity to draw weapons and take aim. There’s a shouted order to surrender, but Catra isn’t the surrendering type. She takes a few steps back from the edge and  _ jumps _ , clearing what is, in hindsight, probably a ten to fifteen foot gap. She lands, rolls, comes up in a crouch, and smirks in triumph just before the first blast slams into her shoulder, spinning her around and sending her sprawling on the rooftop with her head ringing.

The guards, in a rare show of restraint, seem to have realized Catra’s just some idiot recruit, so they didn’t bother using lethal force. One shouts at her to stay down while the other heads back to the roof access point, presumably to make his way over to her roof. 

There’s a decision to make, now: Catra can go quietly, like she’s supposed to, and receive some kind of punishment from Shadow Weaver that will probably be painful, or might just be time in the isolation tank - she’s getting more and more used to the abuse as the years go on, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing - or she can make another break for it, see if she can duck into the junkyard surrounding the facility and sneak her way back into the barracks. One choice carries certain pain - pain she can deal with - while the other choice carries a whole other kind of risk. If the guards think she’s trying to desert, they’ll kill her.

In the end, recklessness wins out. Hell, Catra figures it’ll make a good story to tell Adora - the sort of story that makes her eyes go wide and whisper something like “that’s so  _ cool _ .” Catra can’t resist the idea of impressing Adora, so as soon as the remaining guard’s attention wavers for a second (it doesn’t take long) she rolls over so that she’s on all fours and takes off. Another shot whizzes by her head, and she dives off the rooftop without really planning out her landing, and  _ that _ is when her second life is gone, just like that, because there’s no way she pulls this off as well as she does, catching a drainpipe as she falls to slow her descent, hitting the ground and doing another tuck-and-roll, taking off like a shot into the junkyard where she quickly loses her pursuers. She’s supposed to have broken on the ground, splayed out, lifeblood fleeing from her mouth open in shock, eyes dimming and glazing over before the guards even realize what’s happened. 

When she makes it back to the barracks, she slides into her usual position on Adora’s bed without even waking her up. The next morning, Adora notices the burn mark on Catra’s shoulder, and because Catra hasn’t learned to lie to Adora (why would she want to, anyway?) she tells the whole story, up to and including her flight through the junkyard. Adora listens with rapt attention, and in a low voice whispers “that’s so  _ cool _ ” before coming to her senses and fussing over Catra’s wound.

“You should go to the infirmary for this,” she says, knowing full well that Catra will never do it. 

Catra smiles winningly at Adora while she begins to clean away the blackened fur. “Why would I do that when I’ve got you to patch me up?”

Adora blushes, and isn’t quite sure why. “You’re lucky you’ve got me around, is what you mean.”

The sincerity with which Catra responds “I am.” catches them both off guard for a moment, before she recovers with a laugh and a joke, and Adora continues to patch Catra up. When Adora’s finished, the two head for their morning training session, and the whole time Catra’s shoulder feels warm where Adora touched it and she’s not sure why, but she is starting to suspect the reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look it's part two up basically the same day as part one.
> 
> Don't get used to it. I've only got a couple more of these worked out, and one of them is the ninth.


	3. Life 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Horde has no need for weakness. Shadow Weaver has even less need for Catra.

Glimmer would be surprised to know - well, the entire Rebellion would probably be surprised to know, really - that the Horde not only had infirmaries for wounded soldiers and cadets, but they were good at the business of healing people. Hordak was a lot of things, but he knew it took far less effort to heal a soldier than to train up a replacement. Hordak also understood the value of cadets - the process of indoctrinating his soldiers took time, and wasted effort was a larger affront to him than anything else.

So when an errant blast from an exploding training droid knocks Catra into a pit, breaking her leg, there’s already a process in place. In spite of Adora’s refusal to leave her side, Catra is transported to the infirmary, where Adora is eventually barred from entering. Catra is still not quite conscious of what’s happening, but she feels like her leg is on fire. Eventually she falls asleep entirely. In a normal situation, this would more or less be the end of it. What nobody notices in that moment, and what Catra is too out of it to say, is there’s a bit of shrapnel that the medical techs missed, and so when the next morning rolls around she’s drenched with sweat and feverish.

That’s about when Shadow Weaver shows up. “Foolish,  _ worthless _ child,” she rasps, “do you know how much time you’ve wasted? Our resources are precious, and we have to spend them on  _ you? _ ” 

Catra’s barely conscious, otherwise she would probably have a witty comeback ready. As it is she moans a little softly and murmers Adora’s name, which is a mistake. The name seems to enrage Shadow Weaver, who grabs Catra’s leg and  _ squeezes _ , causing her to scream so loud the medical tech on duty comes running. He draws up short at the sight of Shadow Weaver, and musters a hasty salute.

“Ma’am?”

“I want her out of this facility before day’s end.”

“But…”

“You will not waste further resources on her. If she is strong enough to survive, she will survive. If she is not, then she is weak, and the Horde does not tolerate weakness. Is that  _ clear _ ?”

“By your will, Commander.”

It is perhaps a small act of rebellion, but before a delirious, raving Catra is unceremoniously deposited in her bed ( _ her _ bed, not Adora’s like usual), the medical tech removes the shrapnel and cleans the wound.

Catra descends into her own private hell, unaware of her surroundings, burning up alive. She is only vaguely aware of another presence near her from time to time, and once or twice she feels someone pouring something down her throat - but she’s never sure if that’s real or just part of some other tortured nightmare. Sometime during this period of delirium and pain, she thinks she hears Adora’s voice speaking low and broken, begging Catra to come back. Catra tries to say that she hasn’t left, but the words don’t form right, and if she makes any noise at all it’s just a low groan. There’s a sudden pressure on her forehead, and a dampness that isn’t sweat drips on her face, but Catra doesn’t know what it is, and somewhere in this fog, she loses her third life.

When Catra wakes up again - really, properly wakes up this time - her leg is still broken and her throat is so, so dry. Other sensations begin to come back, namely the feeling of something heavy across her stomach, and something fine tickling her arm. In a rasping, broken voice she asks, “Where am I?”

“Catra!” The pressure across her stomach goes away, and suddenly Catra’s vision is dominated by what her addled brain thinks at first must be a goddess, all long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, shining with an inner light and wearing a golden circlet with wings on either side. She blinks hard and the image resolves into Adora, staring down at her and looking so  _ relieved _ . “I’ll get you some water, okay?”

Adora vanishes for a moment, and reappears with a glass of water. Catra, with Adora’s help, manages to sit up and takes a few sips. It is the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted, but she’s still so exhausted. Finally, she manages a weak, “Hey, Adora. What happened?”

“You were real sick. Some kind of infection because of your leg, I think.” Adora speaks lightly, but there’s a brittleness to her voice that makes Catra’s ears twitch. “They… they weren’t sure you’d pull through.” Adora gets a faraway look in her eyes for a moment, which Catra has learned to recognize as Adora trying not to cry.

“Well, clearly they didn’t know what they were talking about,” Catra says, mustering a cocky grin.

In response she gets a shaky smile and a little huff of laughter, followed by, “Clearly not. But you’re still going to have to wait for your leg to heal before you can come back to training.”

“Speaking of training,” Catra says, “isn’t that where you need to be, Miss Top of the Class?”

Adora gives Catra a puzzled look. “Your sense of time is pretty off, huh? It’s three in the morning.”

Catra sits up straighter in shock, but it only makes her dizzy and Adora has to catch her and guide her gently back down to the pillow. “You shouldn’t be here,” Catra says, “You should be in bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Adora snorts, running her hand through her hair in what Catra recognizes as a nervous gesture. “As if I would leave you when you’re in trouble.” She looks away and Catra just barely catches her murmur, “As if I could leave you at all.”

There’s a squeezing feeling in Catra’s chest and she can’t tell if it’s exhaustion or if she just feels overwhelmed by what Adora’s saying, but she feels herself start to cry, and she doesn’t know why. Adora immediately turns back, all hushes and concern, and with what little strength she has Catra pulls Adora down into a hug and, probably because she’s still a little delirious, kisses her on the cheek and whispers, “thank you” over and over again.

Three weeks later, Catra’s back on her feet, and she takes a special delight in the visible shock in Shadow Weaver’s posture when she strolls back into training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well fuck me I think I've figured out the rest of Catra's lives, so we'll just kind of... keep going? But I've got a lot of traveling to do in the next three weeks so... probably gonna be a while before we see them.


	4. Life 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in her life, Catra knows what regret feels like.

Catra has generally tried to live her life without any regrets. All the times she played a prank on her fellow recruits and it ended up badly for her? No regrets there. Getting into a fight with the Enforcers, who were all much bigger and stronger than she was? Never considered feeling bad about it at all, really. Every time she pushed Shadow Weaver just _slightly_ too far, resulting in far more than her fair share of bruises and burns? _Completely worth it_ , if only to fuck with Shadow Weaver.

Saying “Hey Adora, let’s take a skiff out to the Whispering Woods to celebrate you being Force Captain?” Oh, does she ever have some regrets about that.

Well, she didn’t to begin with. It was just another adventure - her and Adora, just like always, except then the skiff crashed, and Adora saw a light, and now… Now Adora’s disappeared. She left to check out the thing she thought she’d seen - and Catra had _let_ her go alone - and she isn’t back and Catra is so very, very close to panicking but she won't allow herself to do it. Adora will be back any minute, and it will be okay. Catra will be okay.

Shadow Weaver questions Catra as to Adora's whereabouts, and Catra tries to cover for her friend, because Adora has covered for her so many times. The price will just be more pain, Catra thinks, but instead Catra's sent to recover Adora - and that's when she realizes Shadow Weaver has a weakness, and that it's an obsession with Adora. Information to file away for later, Catra decides, but first she's going to get her friend back.

It's a small squad of soldiers, relatively speaking, but it's _Catra's_ squad, and she enjoys being a leader. That she is also quite literally riding to her best friend's rescue also appeals to the adventurer in her. Catra feels like she's always second to Adora, after all, but _this?_ This she can lord over Adora for ages. “Hey Adora, remember that time I rescued you from the princesses? Do you remember when I literally went to war to get you back?” Catra has, by this point, realized just what a willingness to burn a whole goddamn forest down if it means getting Adora back implies, and she's fine with it. Just one more thing to talk to Adora about once she has her back.

Her forces move with a rapid efficiency, moving through the meagre rebel defenses with ease. There aren't any real soldiers here, Catra thinks, and that's a disappointment, if only because it means her rescue won't be quite as impressive. It will be worth it, though, to teach them a lesson of what happens to anyone who tries to take Adora away from her.

Except suddenly Adora’s running out in front of her tank shouting something, and Catra’s heart leaps for joy and she’s out of the tank and tackling her friend to the ground in delight. Except then Adora’s saying the Horde shouldn’t be here, which confuses Catra. Of course the Horde should be here - _she’s here to save Adora_ , doesn’t she get it? Catra’s confusion only gets worse when Adora says something about how the Horde is attacking innocents (which is the most naive thing to come out of Adora’s mouth, Catra thinks, because there are no innocents in war. Catra sleeps through most of their training lectures and even _she_ knows that), that Hordak and Shadow Weaver have been manipulating them to make them blindly loyal (again, _no shit_ , but doesn’t she understand it doesn’t matter as long as they’re together).

Then Adora says she isn’t coming back. Says she _can’t_ come back, and Catra… doesn’t understand why. Because _Catra_ is with the Horde, and the two of them were going to become captains and then they’d get their own back on Shadow Weaver, and Hordak, and anyone else stupid enough to try to stop them. That’s always been the plan, hasn’t it? Together until the end!

But Adora turns her back on it all. She doesn’t come, and drives out the Horde by changing into some giant (beautiful, Catra thinks) warrior, and Catra has to retreat, and Adora isn’t there to patch her up afterwards. Shadow Weaver is _furious_ , but Hordak doesn’t seem to care, and while Catra is _proud_ to get a proper Force Captainship, she knows in her gut that it’s only because Adora’s gone, and then that thought, ‘Adora’s gone’ really sinks in and the grief of it, the _betrayal_ and rage and absolute despair causes her heart to break into a billion pieces, and the Catra that wakes up cold and alone the next morning is not the Catra that went to bed the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the shit now, everyone. Five more lives to go.
> 
> Don't worry, we aren't rehashing the whole season - but there's another couple lives for Catra to lose before we get post-Battle of Brightmoon. Also I have said this literally every time but for real, eventually I'm going to be traveling and there's no way I get another five done before then.


	5. Life 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Ones are a bunch of assholes, Catra decides.

The First Ones, Catra decides, are a bunch of assholes. It takes her about five seconds to come to this conclusion, after a highly-successful kidnapping mission becomes a highly-successful recruit-another-Princess-to-our-cause mission and said princess has the knowledge required to locate First Ones tech reliably. Which, of course, stops working reliably as soon as she gets close to her goal, due to interference from who knows what bullshit. Catra doesn’t have time for this, she thinks. First Ones tech has been nothing but a headache for her, ever since that  _ fucking _ sword stole not just the one thing she loved, but the one thing that, she thinks, might have loved her back. Except, obviously, she doesn’t, because otherwise Catra wouldn’t be waking up in the middle of the night cold and alone.

She tries to shut that train of thought down before it gets too far. That would lead to her thinking about other, inconvenient thoughts which stubbornly persist - like the fleeting moment during their dance where things suddenly felt  _ right _ and Catra had a vision of what could have been - and she has to bury them deep under the pain of betrayal and the reminder that she, Catra, can never be anything but second best until Adora’s gone. Part of her suspects that’s what Shadow Weaver’s constant abuse was all about - making sure that Catra and Adora could never  _ really _ be together, because there’s always going to be this unspoken imbalance in power. What’s more, Catra is certain this never occurred to Adora, which feeds her anger even more. By the time Adora showed up to save her  _ new friend _ , Catra couldn’t wait to get her out - couldn’t bear the thought of a freshly brainwashed and obedient Adora being the best again and taking Catra’s place again. Another part of her she refuses to acknowledge adds that Catra couldn’t stand to see a brainwashed and obedient Adora, because it wouldn’t be  _ her _ Adora, and Catra, damnably, can’t bring herself to give her Adora up entirely yet.

So when Adora shows up, and it’s so clearly  _ her _ Adora, Catra can feel the doubts starting to creep in. Not before she’s given Adora a thorough piece of her mind, of course. Not before she lays out just how Adora’s betrayed her and watches understanding and guilt dawn in those blue eyes of hers. Not before the stupid goddamn lousy First Ones and their stupid goddamn lousy facility decides to force them to relive their entire relationship. No, the doubts don’t really start in until Adora says she misses her, and Catra says she misses Adora, and  _ means  _ it. Is it that important, Catra thinks, what side she’s on, or how much power she has, if she doesn’t have Adora? Isn’t Adora so much more important to her than a fucking Force Commander badge? Wasn’t Catra willing to destroy an entire forest if it meant getting Adora back, and  _ here she is _ , and all Catra has to do is… what, abandon a cause run by assholes she doesn’t even like working for? Could it really - like, I mean  _ really _ \- be that fucking easy to get the one thing Catra can finally admit she wants more than anything else, which is to go to bed and wake up in the morning next to Adora again, and then continue to do that until the universe ends?

Maybe the First Ones really are fucking assholes, because as soon as Catra’s allowed that final, wild thought to run through her head, and felt her heartbeat quicken and things start to fall into a wonderful, terrible sort of place,  _ then _ the Temple shows Catra one last memory, the one where Adora  _ promises _ , and the rage and resentment comes roaring back tenfold. That naescent thought is snuffed out, and Catra suddenly understands everything clearly. The root of all her problems, the thing that’s keeping her back? It’s Adora. Adora has to go, so that Catra can  _ survive.  _ Otherwise, Catra’s going to keep doubting, and it’s going to be her downfall - Shadow Weaver will be able to control her, Hordak will be able to control her, it’s a  _ weakness _ , and the Horde exploits weakness.

She explains this to Adora, standing over her, listening to Adora plead with her, tears in those blue eyes of hers, listens to the  _ fear _ in her voice, and slowly, methodically kills the part of her that still cares.

Catra turns her back, and Adora falls, and Catra is reborn as someone  _ free _ . Back in the Fright Zone, she casts Shadow Weaver down, and moves one step closer to her goal. Bright Moon becomes vulnerable, and she spends the remainder of the day planning her assault. Later that night, in what was once Shadow Weaver’s room, if there are a few tears at the thought of the woman she loves being dead, if a sob escapes her, nobody can hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so it turns out that having to do laundry late into the night because it all needs to be dry by late tomorrow night when I pack (and Germany does not hold with things like dryers) means I have way too much time to sit and poke at this thing! Also for whatever reason this one came pretty easy?
> 
> I give up on saying things like "now I won't update for like a month" because clearly I've got some kind of yen on to finish this thing.


	6. Life 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Bright Moon. Catra's victory is there for the taking.

When they write the history of the Battle of Bright Moon, Catra hopes, they’ll be sure to mention her cleverness, and maybe leave out the part where she’d been so obviously thrilled when she saw She-Ra charging out on the field. She’d been pretty goddamn confident, for the record, that Adora wasn’t  _ really _ dead, because the Adora that Catra knows would never be so easy to kill.

At any rate, it hasn’t sat right with Catra that Adora falling in the temple wasn’t any way for Adora to die. Hardly the sort of death she deserves - Adora’s death deserves to come at Catra’s hand, to leave her broken before her, to break her just like Adora broke Catra. So yes,  _ maybe _ Catra was pleased to see She-Ra swinging that goddamn sword around and causing trouble, but it has nothing to do with having missed her one-time friend. 

While it is a pleasant surprise, it is also not the sort of surprise that will ruin Catra’s plan, because  _ of course _ she expected this, and because unlike her, Adora probably still cares about Catra enough to think she can ‘rescue’ her or whatever. So obviously, Catra makes herself bait, and even more obviously, Adora falls for it, hard. Catra taps deep into a speed and strength she didn’t know she had, taking her rage and hate and funneling it into a pure viciousness that surprises herself. 

When her claws rake down She-Ra’s back, tearing through armor and flesh, Catra feels a thrill of power and she savors the feeling. She-Ra staggers and Catra can see the surprise in the princess’ eyes: she never imagined Catra could be so  _ fast _ . Never imagined Catra could be this strong, never imagined Catra could be so  _ ruthless _ . Catra almost feels like she should thank Adora for her betrayal - without that, Catra would never have realized how much stronger she is alone. Now, maybe, Adora will feel the same regret for leaving that Catra felt for letting Adora leave in the first place. Especially once Catra reveals that she, Catra, was never trying to do anything else beyond keep She-Ra busy, and the look of horror that crosses Adora’s face makes the entire battle worth it.

Everything is going precisely as she’d planned, the Princess Alliance is broken, the crystal is failing, the immortal Queen of Bright Moon is about to become  _ very _ mortal, and most importantly, Catra can see She-Ra’s despair and she can’t help but gloat. She-Ra is  _ broken _ , bound, at Catra’s feet, and Catra is the one who broke her. There’s some last-minute heroics, but when the archer boy rushes to She-Ra’s side, begs her to get up, She-Ra  _ can’t _ , and it’s the best moment of Catra’s life. She stands atop one in a circle of tanks and prepares to annihilate Adora and her friends who are never going to be - could never be - as good as Catra, 

Suddenly there’s water everywhere, and Catra is  _ drowning _ , choking and gasping and a sudden thrill of panic runs through her. She impacts hard against the wreckage of a tank, knocking the wind out of her, but Catra is still force commander and she rallies her troops and makes one last play that  _ almost _ works, except then the fucking frost princess shows up and Catra knows this is a lost cause now, knows full well she’s been beaten, but refuses to leave. Adora is still here, and still alive, and surrounded by her  _ new _ friends, but Catra - only Catra - is left standing alone against them. There’s a look in She-Ra’s eyes as she stares Catra down then, one of mingled pity and regret, a very Adora look, but then it vanishes as the gem on the sword flares and Catra is thrown through the air by a blast of rainbow  _ something _ . Catra doesn’t know how she’s still alive, but when Scorpia finds her and helps her back on one of the few functioning skiffs, she rallies what remains of her troops and leads them back to the Fright Zone, to face down Hordak. She spares a glance for the triumphant princesses as they make their escape, and catches Adora staring at her one last time, and there’s a moment where both have the same thought:  _ It shouldn’t be like this _ . 

As she approaches the throne room, Catra feels a thrill of terror at what awaits her. Hordak will kill her for this failure, surely. Part of her isn’t sure she cares, but self-preservation is a powerful thing, and Catra makes a decision, then. She’s going to tell Hordak that she’s done better than anyone else, and if he tries to kill her for losing, well, she’s going to kill him first. 

Except, when Catra stares Hordak down, unflinching, and tells him Etheria is theirs for the taking, he seems satisfied. Catra becomes Hordak’s second in command, making her victory over Shadow Weaver complete. Catra has everything she wants, now.

Except Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bursts through the wall like the Kool Aid Man*  
> GUYS I BROUGHT YOU MORE SADNESS WHAT'S UP
> 
> Wait, do the kids these days even know about the Kool-Aid Man? I feel suddenly old.
> 
> That's all for the lives in season one. These last three mark an end to me scrubbing around episodes of She-Ra to make sure that I am getting details right. Now I can go back to just making shit up without any regard for canon, as per usual.
> 
> Hey while we're at it, thanks to all of you for the kudos and nice comments about how I am ruining your lives/making you cry/etc. I have tried to respond to all of 'em, because I thrive on attention on account of being an egotistical jackass.
> 
> Because I can't help myself, I drew on [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhJ0n5G5jCo) for inspiration whilst writing this chapter.
> 
> If you want a hint as to what goes down next chapter, you could probably do a lot worse than [this.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_OL5Ve_WmM)


	7. Life 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long live the Horde.

Catra is as surprised as anyone else to discover that she might actually be sort of… happy in her new position. Entrapta and Scorpia evolve into, essentially, her ersatz Adora, and while they don’t do a lot of talking about anything that isn’t conquering-Etheria related, they do grow about as close as Catra is capable of allowing herself to become with anyone. With the technological brilliance of Entrapta and Scorpia’s formidable muscle and unshakeable loyalty, Catra is able to carve a path of chaos across Etheria, all in the name of Hordak, who gives her something she’s never had before - praise. 

That the praise is, of course, contingent upon her continued success, and is far more likely to be a tool of maintaining Catra’s loyalty than anything sincere is not lost on her at all. Catra is a lot of things, but naive is not one of them. Certainly not naive enough to believe for a second that Hordak will not cast her aside as soon as he judges her to no longer be useful. The trick, therefore, has been to become useful - and Catra’s unique ability to get under the skin of She-Ra, hero of the Rebellion, has made her virtually indispensable. It helps to offset the failures, and Entrapta’s constantly malfunctioning experiments, and Scorpia’s… well, actually Scorpia probably doesn’t really do anything that Hordak would ever notice. Catra, at least, overlooks Scorpia’s clinginess, because loyalty is a useful tool  (and if part of her wishes it was Adora, and not Scorpia, nobody needs to know).

Adora is unable to give up the hope that Catra will eventually switch sides, as if Catra’s got any loyalty to anything that isn’t herself at this point. The comedy of the situation is that Catra  _ would _ switch sides, maybe, if only it wouldn’t mean going back to being a sidekick again. “She-Ra and her loyal band of allies (featuring a special guest appearance from Catra, who destroyed the Whispering Woods that one time)” didn’t sound as good as “Catra, Right Hand of Hordak, Lord of the Horde” or whatever Hordak’s title was. It is, she knows, just a more glorified sidekick role, but she’ll take it. Hordak has, in his way, given Catra more than Adora ever did, and so when Adora gives Catra those looks whenever they fight, whenever Adora pleads with Catra to just  _ think _ about who she’s helping and what she’s doing, Catra only laughs and attacks even harder.

One night Catra has a dream that she finally kills Adora, and then goes on to conquer Etheria in Hordak’s name. She drives a stake through the heart of the Princess Alliance, and in her moment of greatest triumph, she kills Hordak and takes his place, becoming a goddess perched upon the throne of the world. She wakes up panting, covered in sweat, and filled with such an overwhelming feeling of sadness and disgust that she stumbles into her (private) bathroom and vomits. She can  _ feel _ something in her fighting against what she’s becoming, buried deep under the last two years of fighting and plotting and destruction. She can’t decide, in that late night moment, if she wants it to be successful, or to finally leave her alone.

Maybe that’s the reason the next time she runs into She-Ra on the battlefield Catra feels as if she isn’t fighting as well as usual. Her timing feels off, and She-Ra gets in a lot of solid hits that she never should have, including a vicious backhand that sends Catra flying into a tree with a brutal crack. Catra slumps against the trunk, for once, and feels so very, very tired of fighting. She-Ra advances warily, because Catra has definitely played dead before, and Adora has fallen for it hard before, and has faintly fading scars to prove it. Catra looks up at the advancing warrior Princess, a voice in her head screaming at her to get up, to keep fighting, and just… can’t. Then She-Ra does something which is so frustratingly,  _ infuriatingly _ Adora, and offers a hand to help Catra stand that Catra regards like it’s some kind of bomb.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Catra says, unable to keep the exhaustion from creeping into her voice. “You’re supposed to  _ kill  _ me now.”  _ I want it to be you who kills me _ , Catra thinks,  _ I want you to carry the guilt of striking down your one-time best friend until it breaks you, _ and another, even quieter voice in her head adds,  _ I want you to end what I’ve become _ .

The look she gets in response makes Catra think she might have voiced her thoughts aloud. She-Ra takes a half step back before a look crosses her face that Catra remembers from their youth - the look Adora got whenever she’s made up her mind and nothing, no force in the known universe, will change it - and suddenly she’s pulled Catra up to her feet and into an embrace.

There’s a whisper in Catra’s ear. “I won’t give up on you that easily, Catra.”

The words send a thrill up Catra’s spine, and the small voice, the one that kept raging against what she’s becoming, suddenly becomes loud and defiant.  _ You don’t have to fight. You can do better than this. Adora still loves you. You still love her. That’s enough. It’s enough. _  The dam breaks, whatever hold the Horde had on her is annihilated by the sheer power of what Adora meant - still means - to Catra, and what, Catra understands - _finally_ understands - she means to Adora. Catra feels the tears come, then, and she’s suddenly clinging to She-Ra like a lifeline, like a rope thrown over the edge of a chasm and if Catra can just muster the strength to pull herself up, maybe she’ll find some kind of peace. Maybe she can put all the skills she’s put into destroying everything into building something. Maybe.

Through it all, She-Ra holds Catra like something precious, like Catra’s the most valuable thing on the whole planet, and when Catra seems to recover herself a little and steps back, she puts a hand on her face and  _ looks _ at Catra in a way that sends warmth shooting through her veins, that makes Catra feel like there was this weight on her and now the weight’s gone. She struggles to speak, and all she can manage is a whispered “Adora,” but she says it with such reverence that there’s no mistaking what she means, and She-Ra smiles.

And then…

Then…

Then the Imp materializes behind She-Ra, and shoves a spear right through her back, and She-Ra’s face goes slack, and she chokes, and she slowly topples forward into Catra’s arms, and her eyelids flutter and go still.

Catra wants to scream, wants to do  _ anything _ , but she’s so stunned that all she does is stand there stupidly with Adora’s blood running over her, until she hears the archer boy scream and an arrow rips through the Imp’s skull, and the glittering princess suddenly appears and there’s an explosion of light that blinds Catra and sends her flying, and when she wakes up against the tree where she’s landed (again), She-Ra’s vanished, everyone’s vanished but the jubilant Horde. Scorpia helps Catra up and fusses over her wounds, and Catra is still too out of it to even push her away. There’s a ceremony, and Catra sleepwalks through it, salutes and bows and listens to Hordak praise her for having the presence of mind to exploit She-Ra’s weakness long enough for his Imp to get into position (he does not seem to care that the Imp is dead, which Catra would not find surprising even if she were mentally present enough to notice). A report from a spy embedded in the Rebellion comes in with the confirmation later: She-Ra, aka the traitoress Adora, is dead.

Long live the Horde. Long live Hordak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.
> 
> Two lives to go. We'll make it through.


	8. Life 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra is numb, until she isn't.

Due to injuries sustained in combat with the traitoress Adora, Catra is granted leave to recover from the battlefield. Hordak is convinced - rightfully so - that the loss of She-Ra will prove sufficient to break the back of the Rebellion, and thus the idea of his Right Hand taking some R&R is no great loss to the war effort. After all, it was her that delivered this great victory to the Horde, and Hordak rewards loyalty.

Catra spends the first half of her month’s leave in a daze. She’d been badly scorched by the glitter princess’ blast, and her fur has only just started to grow back, and it itches, and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about much of anything for that first month, enough that Scorpia finally corners her and demands to know what the fuck is going on - except it’s Scorpia, so she’s much nicer about it.

This, shockingly, seems to snap Catra out of it.

“I’m just not sure what to do now,” Catra says, being mostly honest, “I mean, She-Ra was my nemesis. There’s no challenge in fighting the rebellion now.” Then, before she can stop herself, she adds, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

This last phrase is spoken with such  _ despair _ that Scorpia is quiet for a long time before she speaks. When she does, it is with very carefully chosen words, designed to keep her, Scorpia, from being murdered by Catra. “You and she... “ here, she pauses, and a few phrases seem to run through her mind before she continues, “you had a long history, right?”

Catra’s laugh is brittle, just shy of insane. “You could say that, yeah.” Mentally, Catra is rushing to build back up her defenses, but every time she tries to do so, she remembers She-Ra saying “I’ll won’t give up on you that easily, Catra” and it all comes crumbling down again. 

Scorpia is quiet again for a while. Catra starts to think about whether or not she’ll have to kill Scorpia to keep her from telling Hordak his Right Hand has gone insane. “I’m sorry,” Scorpia finally says, regret tingeing her voice, “It’s not right that you had to lose your friend.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Catra crumples to the ground, and cries harder than she’s ever cried before (the one part of her that is constantly on guard against showing weakness thanks whatever gods exist that Scorpia chose to do this in Catra’s private quarters). She curls in on herself and sobs, making a keening noise like a wounded animal, and doesn’t stop until she feels like all her capacity for grief or any kind of emotion at all has run out.

All but one, which has hardened diamond-like into something so strong that she’s almost surprised her grief had been able to drown it out. Rage. Deep, cold, calculating rage, and with that rage, a single thought runs through her head that quickly drowns out any other worries.

_ I’m going to kill Hordak with my bare hands _ .

Scorpia notices the shift in Catra’s body language immediately. Catra goes from limp, helpless sobbing to a sudden calm. When she sits up, Scorpia hands her a box of tissues wordlessly, which Catra accepts with a curt nod, and then does a double-take, as if Catra’d forgotten Scorpia was even in the room.

“Scorpia,” Catra says, and her voice almost sounds serene, “Do you trust me?”

Scorpia nods vigorously, and salutes for good measure. “Of course! You’re our commander!”

“And if I weren’t your commander, Scorpia,” Catra says again, and her eyes carry something dangerous in them, “would you still trust me? Or are you just afraid if you say no you’ll get in trouble?”

“I… don’t understand the question?”

“I am  _ asking _ ,” Catra says, as she stands up, having finished wiping the snot and tears off her face, “If you actually trust me, or if you just know that when someone who outranks you in the Horde asks if you trust them you’re supposed to say yes.”

Scorpia, bless her, seems to put some serious thought into the question. Eventually, she says, “Well, we’re friends, aren’t we? Friends trust each other. So I trust you.”

It’s a child’s logic, but Catra smiles, and gives Scorpia something she never, not in a million years, expected: a hug. “Thank you. I didn’t realize I needed someone to shake me out of this, but I did, and you did, and I am more grateful than you know.” Catra says, quietly. Scorpia is flabbergasted, but Catra cuts her off before she can say anything in response. “I’m afraid I need a little more from you, but I won’t force you. If you trust me, I’ll trust you, and that’ll be enough. Deal?”

Scorpia nods, dazed and a little confused. “So…?”

“I’m going to destroy the Horde.” Catra says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I’m going to destroy them for what they took from me, and what they took from you, and what they took from everyone else. I’m going to fucking  _ annihilate _ them, Scorpia. I’m going to make them seem like a bad dream, and if I have to do it myself I will, but I’d rather have you on my side. Entrapta too, if you think she’d be into the idea.”

Scorpia is taken aback by this, to put it simply. “You’re going to… destroy the Horde?”

“Yes.”

“My family welcomed the Horde,” Scorpia says, dazedly, “We gave them our runestone as a welcoming gift. Generations ago.”

“Do you really believe that?” Catra gestures around them. “Do you really believe that your ancestors welcomed servitude? Or is that just what they told you in Force Commander orientation, and it was easier to believe that than consider the scary lady with the dark magical powers might have lied to you?”

“I mean, I guess it’s  _ possible _ …” Scorpia says, and then she sighs. “Who am I kidding? We live in a place called the Fright Zone.” She nods. “I’ll help.”

Catra smiles, and even though it’s a genuine smile, there’s still something dangerous in her eyes, like even though she’s happy something cold and terrible and  _ terrifying _ is just below the surface. Scorpia does not recognize exactly what it is - but an outside observer might realize it was the look of someone who wants to die, but knows they have one more thing to do first. In spite of her considerable size advantage, Scorpia shivers.

“Okay,” Catra says, and her eyes glint with cunning, “here’s the plan.”

Catra, Right Hand of Hordak, returns to her duties slightly ahead of schedule. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've had more Scorpia and Entrapta in this damn thing from the start. Oh well, regrets are for chumps.
> 
> Spoiler alert, part nine is already done, but I have to get on an airplane and fly through the sky like a big ol' piece of garbage (and this tablet battery is running out) so you'll have to wait until I'm done traveling before it goes up. It needs a pass or two before it's ready for prime time.


	9. Life 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ending occurs.

It’s laughably easy. 

Catra’s return is like a signal Hordak’s been waiting for to begin his endgame, and when Catra reveals her new plan to topple a crippled Bright Moon, Hordak is eager to execute the plan. The only real difficulty comes from getting him to think that he came up with the notion of supervising the destruction of the Rebellion himself, but Catra learned her lessons in deceit and manipulation from Shadow Weaver and Hordak himself. It would be, Hordak decides,  _ inappropriate _ for him to not be present at his own hour of triumph. Besides, Entrapta delivers a new form of surveillance that reveals the Princess Alliance is in complete disarray - with She-Ra dead, it’s collapsed into infighting, and most of the Princesses have withdrawn back to their own kingdoms. Bright Moon is weak, and ready to fall. It only needs a push, which Catra’s plan is set to deliver.

Rather than moving openly, Hordak has his forces assemble in secret. The Horde spends three months preparing their assault, launching a series of minor skirmishes to stretch the Rebellion forces as thin as possible. Catra even has the Horde lose a few here and there, just to give the impression the Horde might be having trouble too. Scorpia is kept busy helping to prepare troops for the assault, and Entrapta is barely seen outside of her workshop, where an almost constant parade of tanks and other assault vehicles cycle through, being outfitted with upgrades to their armor and, most importantly, their weaponry. Entrapta’s cracked that First Ones tech, and the results have been incredible to behold. Bright Moon still has its shield, but a sustained bombardment from these cannons is calculated - by Entrapta, naturally - to have enough combined force to bring it down, provided there’s enough of them firing at the same time. Which, thanks to a clever weapon-linking system she’s installing, will be a piece of cake.

Added to that are Scorpia’s hand-picked troops, chosen for a mission that is so top secret, so incredibly mission-critical, that they actually vanish from the Fright Zone entirely. The squad consists of washouts and troublemakers, and the general opinion of the Horde rumor mill is they’re for a suicide mission. Hordak, of course, is kept informed of where they are and what they’re doing, but nobody else apart from Catra knows.

When the morning of the assault dawns, Hordak makes a rare appearance in front of the troops and gives a speech. This, he says, will be the greatest hour the Horde has ever known. Today, he claims, the Horde will finally rid itself of the Rebellion, and bring the world to heel. The war criminals hiding out in Bright Moon are already dead, and is the job of them, the Horde troops, Hordak’s  _ family _ (Catra resists the urge to gag), to inform the residents of Bright Moon of this fact. The Horde is unstoppable. The Horde is unbreakable. The Horde will triumph.

Long live the Horde.

True to his word, the Horde moves swiftly through the (mostly recovered, Catra notes) Whispering Woods. Catra rides with the vanguard, at the head of the column, unarmed and carrying a long case she’d picked up from Entrapta just before bidding the princess farewell. Entrapta had started to go into a long digression about the case’s contents, but had eventually trailed off.

“Good luck Commander,” she finally said quietly. 

Catra put a hand on Entrapta’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. With a crooked smile, she said, “See you on the other side.”

Entrapta nodded and coughed and made an excuse to go back to her workshop, where if a few tears got on her tools nobody would notice.

To their immense credit, the Rebellion is not completely caught off guard when the Horde army bursts out of the Whispering Woods - someone, Catra thinks, must have been tracking them. A scouting party, perhaps? She does not think it will make any difference. 

The battle is fierce. Catra lets herself slip into her Commander mindset, just one last time, and conducts war with a symphonic grace that reminds her of how far she could still go if she wished. Surely the world would be an easy thing to conquer, with all her cunning? But any desire she may have had to sit astride the world and rule with an iron fist died back on the battlefield with Adora’s blood soaking through her uniform. Still, the efficiency with which the Rebellion’s finest are drawn out with feints and then just as swiftly driven back into the city is impressive. The shield still stands, and Catra can see the Immortal Queen herself up on the tower charging the runestone, dumping her lifeblood into it to keep her people safe. It almost makes Catra nostalgic, and she wonders in that moment, what would have been if the Princess Alliance had never shown up to save the day. Would she have been lost entirely? Would she have killed Adora, in that moment? The thought is shoved aside. There is work to be done.

With the enemy driven back, Catra hops up on the top of a tank as the city is surrounded. Hordak, seeing his victory assured, arrives and strides forward, looking every inch the conquering hero. Catra bows as he approaches.

“The city awaits you, Lord Hordak.”

“Thank you, my most faithful servant.” Hordak says, and turns to address the city. “People of Bright Moon! See what your rebellious ways have wrought! You stand on the edge of destruction, brought on by the stubbornness of an idiot queen. Yet even in this hour, I shall show mercy, if you surrender yourselves to-”

Nobody finds out precisely to whom they can surrender, because there’s suddenly a blade tip extending out of Hordak’s chest, and he screams in pain. Catra leans in close and whispers in his ear, “Congratulations on your victory, my lord.” 

But it can’t be that simple. Hordak is no mere mortal man, after all, and as Catra withdraws the blade, he spins with horrifying speed and sends her flying. Catra feels her ribs break, but she smiles, and digs the blade into the ground, standing.

The blade, forged by Entrapta, is not the Sword of Protection, but it uses the same basic technology. There is no She-Ra program, no transformation that Catra can tap into, but it does have a few tricks - like becoming a shield, which is what it does as Hordak sends a crackling bolt of dark energy at Catra. A few tank commanders, seeing their lord in trouble, turn their cannons on Catra, and discover their weapons are non-functional: another one of Entrapta’s gifts. At the same time, a sudden force of Horde soldiers appears on the battlefield, and begins ripping into the army’s flanks - Scorpia’s elite squad. Hordak can  _ feel _ the situation spinning out of his control, but he also calculates that Catra’s death will put a stop to this nonsense, and increases his assault. Catra, in response, laughs.

“Good! I was afraid you’d make it too easy for me.” The shield is a sword again, and she’s moving  _ fast _ , all her training keeping her one step ahead of Hordak’s blasts, leading him in a merry dance. She pirouettes, cuts, and suddenly Hordak is missing a hand. Another jump, another twist, and a deep wound appears across his stomach. Hordak howls and catches Catra with a bolt that fires straight through her shoulder, and she grunts with pain and drops the sword, but she doesn’t really need a weapon, does she?

In Bright Moon, there’s confusion, followed by a sudden command decision - if there’s a group turning on the Horde, the Rebellion will aid them. Rebel soldiers charge out of the city, the archer boy and glitter princess (did she ever learn their names, Catra thinks?) and, perhaps most surprisingly to Hordak and anyone who’d believed Entrapta’s false intel, the rest of the Princess Alliance, which is very definitely  _ not _ disbanded. 

Hordak begins to try to retreat back into the safety of his ranks, but wherever he goes, Catra is there, Catra is  _ hunting  _ him, Catra frustrates his every move, dogs his every step. Claws rake across his back and he arches in pain, but Catra feels something pierce her stomach and knows she’s on a time limit, now.

Wounded arm covering wounded gut, Catra keeps coming, somehow still avoiding bolt after bolt as Hordak begins to weaken and the first flickers of panic begin to flare in his eyes. Eventually he’s screaming wordless invective, hurling everything he’s got, and Catra takes one directly in the chest, but the armor she’s wearing absorbs the impact and she keeps coming. In a last burst of speed, she darts under his guard and her one good hand is on his throat.

Time seems to stand still for a moment there, and the two stand frozen for what feels like an eternity. A million things to say run through Catra’s head, but she settles for the one she thinks is most appropriate. “For the honor of Grayskull,” she shouts, and rips Hordak’s throat out.

Hordak dies with a look of pure bafflement on his features, as if he is still trying to figure out what precisely went wrong. Then, because Catra’s work is not done, she staggers to the sword, picks it up, and begins rallying Scorpia’s troops, charging back into the fray, even though she can feel the timer ticking closer to zero. She doesn’t get too far before a stray explosion knocks her over, and she rolls to a stop next to the wreckage of one of her tanks. She decides to sit and watch. 

The fight is going well, but Scorpia’s troops are starting to have trouble - some of them were washouts, after all - and Catra finds herself hoping the rebellion forces manage to break through to them before they’re all wiped out. She’s in so much pain that she can’t feel pain anymore, and her breath is starting to come raggedly, and she’s so tired, and so  _ finished _ with all this. Her eyes begin to close, and she fights against it for a little while before deciding that hey, maybe she deserves the rest.

A blazing comet shoots across the sky, just as her eyes close, and the sound of its impact jolts her back to consciousness. The remaining Horde troops scatter in dismay, and Catra looks at the source of all the commotion and it  _ can’t _ be.

“Hey Adora,” Catra manages, after an effort. “Killed the Horde for you. Sorry you died.”

Yet, there she is, standing in front of Catra, eyes bright and blue (and god, how did Catra spend so long not telling her how gorgeous she is?) looking at Catra with Adora’s crooked smile. “Catra, I’m not dead.”

Catra’s so drowsy, now, and rambling, and not so much interested in what her dying hallucination has to say as she is in getting the last word in. “Yes you are. I lost you again, because I didn’t deserve to get you back after what I did the first time. It took me so long to forgive you but,” she feels her own breath rattling around in her lungs, and continues with an effort “I hope this makes up for it.” 

Hallucinatory Adora’s sword starts to radiate energy, and Catra basks in the warmth of it, even as she feels her own body’s warmth leaking out all over the place. “You know Adora, I ripped Hordak’s throat out with my bare hands. Well, bare hand. This one,” she wiggles the broken arm a little, “doesn’t work so great anymore.” Her head lolls forward. “Hope I did something right for once.”

As the last of her consciousness slips from her, she feels warmth suffusing her body, someone kisses her forehead, and a voice, Adora’s voice, whispers, “As if I’d ever leave you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am basically incoherent, having been awake and traveling for somewhere around the last twenty four or twenty five hours, but look! It's the end! We got there, just like I promised we would. Thank you all for the comments, and the kudos, and for warming my heart by swearing vengeance against me for stabbing you right in the heart and twisting the knife around. 
> 
> I guess... I guess that means this is the end for Catra. Nine lives are all she gets.
> 
> Well, maybe.
> 
> _Maybe_ that's all she gets. Certainly it's the traditional number. It's also what I promised from the beginning. But maybe... 
> 
> Maybe maybe maybe.
> 
> Maybe check back here in a couple days?


	10. Epilogue (Life 10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afterlife, Catra thinks, is kind of boring. But boring's not so bad.

Cats, it is said, have nine lives. Catra certainly has gone through about nine of them at this point, and floats in darkness, and decides that as far as afterlives go, this is a pretty boring one. Then again, she’s at peace, now. If destroying the Horde isn’t worth a happy ending, what is? As far as abysses go, this one is surprisingly comfortable, a soft feeling like she’d never experienced in a Horde-provided bed. It’s also got a pleasant smell to it, something Catra can’t quite identify but decides to call ‘home.’ There's a faint pressure on her side, like something's there, but when she tries to probe the source of it her arm doesn't seem like it moves at all. This seems a little limiting to her, for the afterlife, so Catra elects to close her eyes and see if she drifts anywhere in the nowhere.

She feels like she might be drifting for a long time, but she's also not really sure if time has any meaning. She thinks she hears voices at one point, but she can't make out the words and isn't really sure she cares to try that hard. The one thing, she thinks, that would have been nice is if she could have wound up wherever Adora did post-backstabbing. Catra is alone and, perhaps, for the first time in her (after)life, serene about the idea, but after all she’s been through it would be fun to talk to Adora about everything. Also, Catra does not believe in destiny, but she _does_ believe that she and Adora will find each other regardless of where in time or space or reality they are, and it’s only a matter of time; so her absence is really a very small fly in a vast ocean of ointment. In a very un-Catra-like move, she decides to be patient, and allows herself to sink back into oblivion.

Things start to come back to her after what feels like an epoch has passed. The first is touch, which Catra isn’t sure she’s enjoying on account of most of the responses being “oh god oh god everything hurts” or some variation on that. There’s definitely something soft and warm next to her, molded against her body like it’s always been a part of her. Something’s tickling her nose, which twitches and smells that same “home” odor that’s been following this whole time. Sounds begin to intrude, then, which sound _suspiciously_ like snoring, and the whirr of some kind of equipment. Catra realizes then that her eyes are shut, and decides to open them to see if they can provide any new intel on her situation.

Her eyes feel like they’ve been glued shut, and she moves an arm to rub them, which as it turns out, is a more difficult proposition than she immediately thought it would be. Her right arm seems to refuse most input, and feels like it’s restrained, somehow, but her left arm, while sending signals of _intense_ protest, does manage to allow her to rub the gunk out from her eyelashes, allowing her eyes to finally open.

This, she thinks, was a terrible mistake, because it’s _blindingly_ bright, and she makes a displeased “mrrrp” at the intrusion. The sound of her own voice startles her a bit, as it sounds rougher than she remembered, but then again, she’s not been doing a lot of talking recently so maybe she’s just forgotten. She shuts her eyes again, deciding to open them later. Maybe in another decade or so.

Her noise seems to have caused a change in the warm and soft thing, however - it shifts around and pulls away, causing Catra to grumble at its absence. She gets the distinct impression she’s being looked at, so it’s not too big of a surprise when Adora’s voice says, “Catra?” carrying such a tremor of hope that Catra feels herself smiling broadly and her eyes fly open, bright lights be damned.

Adora’s eyes are shining, and she’s levered herself above Catra from where she’s clearly been sleeping next to her, and Catra’s heart skitters and bumps at the sight. There’s a long pause, then, as the two just take in the sight of one another. Catra is _certain_ that she probably looks terrible; she can feel bandages criss-crossing her stomach and shoulder, while a cast holds her her arm in place. She raises her good hand and brushes a bit of hair out of Adora’s face and the jolt of contact is almost electric. Adora starts crying, then, and Catra makes a shushing noise and wipes them away.

“Hey Adora,” she says, because that seems to be all she can ever say in moments like these.

Adora laughs, and it’s the loveliest noise Catra’s ever heard in her whole life. “Hey Catra. Sleeping late as usual, I see.”

It’s difficult, but Catra manages to tear her eyes away from Adora to take a look at her surroundings. She’s in a well-appointed room, in a frankly giant bed with Adora, and there are several cables and tubes leading from her to some medical equipment. She notices an I.V. drip in her good hand, and then she decides this is all way less interesting than Adora looming over her.

“You know me,” she says, “I keep to my own schedule.” Then, because she’s still not entirely sure, she asks, “What happened?”

Then, as Adora opens her mouth to answer, Catra says, “wait, hang on,” and uses her good arm to pull herself up (or does Adora come down?) and kisses Adora, hard. This earns her an incredibly surprised and pleased sound from Adora, and Catra has two thoughts arrive almost simultaneously:

  1. Adora is the best at kissing, or maybe just the best person in the world to kiss
  2. Catra will happily spend the rest of her life kissing Adora, if that is allowed



She pulls away after a little while, and the disappointed sound Adora makes as she attempts to follow her down is _also_ very nice, Catra decides, so she gives a small huff of laughter and kisses her again. She’s not really sure how long they stay like that, but she also doesn’t care, she’s waited _years_ for this, a decade even, before she knew what kissing was or what it meant she’s wanted to do this with Adora, and the rest of the world can hold its fucking horses for a little while while she savors this. Eventually, though, her stomach starts to hurt, and her arm starts to hurt, and really most of her starts to hurt and so she lets herself fall back down to the pillow and this time, at least, Adora seems willing to let her go for a bit (although Catra looks at those blue eyes, pupils blown wide and lips still slightly parted, and there’s a flash of something _hungry_ in Adora’s gaze that sends a jolt from her head to her toes).

“Sorry about that,” Catra says, playing it casual, “It’s just that I’ve wanted to do that for a while. You might find this a surprise, but you’re _incredibly_ beautiful. Anyway, what happened again?”

Adora _blushes_ , and Catra feels like she might actually die again at how cute it is. “Well,” Adora says, catching her breath and thinking, “When I found you on the battlefield, everything was already pretty much over. You were… well, you weren’t great, but I was able to use the sword’s power to basically stabilize you - something I learned after the… after the Imp got me.” There’s a distant look in Adora’s eyes, then, and Catra wonders what happened _there_ , what had kept Adora alive, but she doesn’t interrupt or ask. Not yet. A little later, she’ll trace the scar the Imp’s spear left with her fingers and tongue, but not now. Adora shakes her head, and the look vanishes again, and she continues with her story.

“Anyway, once I got you stabilized, Glimmer teleported us to the infirmary. You were uh, you were pretty banged up. Your shoulder was shattered, your arm was broken, and that last blast had basically snapped your lower leg in two, and broke most of your ribs - and that’s not even counting the shrapnel they dug out of you, to say nothing of the damage Hordak’s magic did. The sword took care of a lot of that, but as you can tell,” Adora gestures to the bandages all over Catra’s body, “there was still some work to do. Eventually Glimmer convinced me you were alright and I should go back out to the fight. Well, I say ‘convinced,’ but really she teleported me out and convinced me after the fact.” Catra bares her teeth a little at this, and Adora shushes her. “Hey, she was right. There was a battle going on and they needed She-Ra. Although to be fair, it was really kind of over as soon as you killed Hordak. Kind of became just a matter of time. Once the Rebellion’s forces linked up with the Horde deserters, the remaining loyalists either fled or gave up. I’m not sure where they’ve fled to though, because according to Entrapta -” she gives Catra an affectionate swat, “thanks for not telling us Entrapta’s been alive this whole time, by the way - she’d basically rigged most of Horde HQ to blow sky high, which it did. Entrapta kept calling it ‘an excellent way to measure the effects of introducing high levels of entropy into a formerly-stable system,’ which I’m pretty sure just means she enjoyed blowing it up.”

Catra cackles a little at that, and is surprisingly glad to hear that Entrapta made it out. She’s about to ask what happened to Scorpia, but Adora beats her to it. “Oh, and your friend, Scorpia? She kind of took charge of the aftermath. She got the surrendering forces organized and put them to work clearing the battlefield and burying the dead. Then she kind of broke into the infirmary when she heard you were still alive. The doctor had to threaten to sedate her to get her to go lay down. She’s been serving as the primary liaison between the New Horde (that’s what they’re calling themselves now, I guess) and the Princess Alliance, working out reparations and repatriation and stuff, as well as a rebuilding effort in the Fright Zone.”

Catra nods, somehow unsurprised to hear about it. “She hasn’t been giving you too much trouble, has she? She can be kind of… intense.”

Adora laughs, “You don’t need to tell me. She and I took shifts watching over you in the infirmary until you were stable enough to move here.”

“And uh…” Catra looks around the room now, curious, “where exactly is ‘here?’”

There’s an embarrassed cough and Adora blushes again. “Um, my room. Well, actually I was kind of thinking it would be… our room?”

Catra feels tears start to form in her eyes, still really unable to believe this is all actually happening. “Our room, huh?”

“I mean, if you want your own room we can definitely arrange it -”

Catra cuts Adora off immediately. “I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else than with you.”

The smile that crosses Adora’s face is almost blinding in its radiance. She looks down, unexpectedly shy at Catra’s blunt declaration. “Well, after that there’s not much to tell. You’ve been sleeping for nearly two weeks, off and on. You know,” she says, with a little grin, “You’re kind of a hero, Catra. They’re calling you Hordak’s Downfall, the Great Liberator of the Horde.”

“Great Liberator of the Horde, huh?” Catra rolls the phrase around in her mouth a little, and grins. “I’ve got a better title, though.”

Adora raises an eyebrow, curious. “Oh really? What’s that?”

Catra levers herself up again, and whispers in Adora’s ear. “She-Ra’s girlfriend,” then collapses back on the bed, cackling at Adora’s _intensely_ red face.

“I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” Adora finally says, when she’s recovered enough to speak. “You’ve clearly been driven mad by your injuries.”

“Adora,” Catra says then, suddenly serious. “I love you. I’ve loved you for so long -”

Adora hushes her. “I love you too, Catra. I’m… I can’t believe I’ve got you back.”

For a while there’s not much talking, apart from one or two moments where Catra hisses “Watch the ribs! Broken ribs!” and, at least once where she says “broken shoulder!” and Adora whispers an apology with an embarrassed giggle, along with some purring.  The two are so distracted they don’t even notice the door to Adora’s room open. Entrapta enters, sees the two in the process of tangling each other up on the bed, and begins dictating a note into her recorder. “Subject one appears to be recovering from her wounds well, and already demonstrates a certain level of renewed flexibility -” before Adora throws something in her general direction to get her to stop.

“Ah, Adora!” Entrapta says, continuing as if nothing happened, “I was just going to tell you, I’ve finished modifications to Catra’s sword. Unfortunately, it appears the She-Ra form is one of a kind, but I think we might be able to tap into the same basic subroutines and get a similar power output.”

Catra, who is busy vacillating between finding Entrapta’s entrance hilarious and swearing an oath of vengeance on Entrapta for interrupting, perks up at the mention of the sword. “Sword? What about my sword?”

Adora shoots Entrapta a look, and Entrapta has the decency to look a little guilty. “Well, I didn’t want to bring it up until you were back on your feet, but… I mean, there’s still Horde remnants out there,” Adora says, nervously playing with her hair in a way that Catra finds _fascinating_ , “I thought maybe when you recovered, if you wanted, we could kind of… go fight some bad guys together?”

It’s the most awkward proposal/invitation on a date that Catra has ever heard, and she loves it. A slow grin grows on her face. “She-Ra and The Great Liberator, out on an adventure, huh?”

Adora shrugs, looking helplessly embarrassed and, Catra thinks, thoroughly kissable. “Yeah, I uh… Something like that?”

Catra pretends to consider the question for a minute. “I think,” she says finally, “there’s very little else I’d rather do.”

“What else could you possibly rather do?” Adora says, feigning outrage.

“Get Entrapta out of the room and bar the door,” Catra whispers in a low voice that only Adora can hear, “And I’ll show you.”

Entrapta finds herself suddenly on the other side of the door, and there’s a grinding noise that sounds suspiciously like someone shoving a bookcase in front of it. After listening a moment, Entrapta shrugs, mutters something about the confusing nature of mutual relationships, and wanders off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay now for real, it's over. I uh, I was not expecting so many of you to react so positively to this fic! It has been my great pleasure to create something that, apparently, y'all are Super Into, and I'm glad we could draw the curtain on our two heroines before I had to change the rating for this thing to account for _heinous smut_ , which honestly I'm sure people can do way better than I can. 
> 
> *stares into the middle distance with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth* I got out of the smut game years ago.
> 
> Anyway, I am so glad you all enjoyed this, and it was a hell of a lot of fun responding to your comments, and um, yeah! This was fun! I don't write a lot of fanfiction, and I don't know if I've got any more stories to tell about these two crazy kids (not until the next season's out, at least), so I guess this is kind of a goodbye from me? 
> 
> I've kind of gone back and forth on this next bit here, so if you want to keep your opinion of me high, stop reading this note now while I get real fuckin' self-promotional:
> 
> Perhaps, you think, it would be cool to read more stuff that I've written. Perhaps, you think, I should like to see how this ol' skeleton does at writing in a different genre. Let's say... cyberpunk. No, you think, that is too easy. Let's say cyberpunk superheroics. Oh, and let's say you decide there should probably be a cast that's mostly female, and maybe this mostly female cast should, occasionally, maybe kiss? Or at least flirt a little. 
> 
> Now, just to make it interesting, let's say it's serialized, and there's a complete first arc you can start [here](http://vanquisher2099.tumblr.com/partone). Then let's go back to imagining I never said any of this.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay look I'm sorry in advance for how slowly this is going to update, but we will get to the end somehow, and maybe even not feel too terribly sad by the end?
> 
> I can't believe I decided to commit to nine goddamn lives.
> 
> EDIT: Holy crap you guys, this is above and beyond the most commented on, most read thing I've ever done on here, which isn't a high bar to clear but thank you! You are all lovely people, and it has been a pleasure ripping your hearts out and stomping all over them!
> 
> I'll save further victory laps for when this thing's actually done but damn, y'all!


End file.
